“But you have read that one, multiple times,” Bennett pointed out.
Edwina retained the book, responding, “Indeed, but Mr. Warren has not. I thought he might enjoy it while recovering from his fall.”
“I wasn’t aware he had hurt himself,” Bennett said, turning to Miles to explain. “Mr. Warren was the butler here before my father arrived. He has since retired to one of the cottages on the estate.”
“Yes, but Mrs. Warren says he remains in good spirits, despite hurting his ankle,” Edwina shared.
“It’s not broken, is it?” Bennett asked.
Edwina shook her head. “The doctor does not believe so but has advised him to stay off of it for a few days.”
“How did he manage to fall?”
A faint smile graced Edwina’s lips. “He was tending to his goats and one butted him in the backside.”
“Those blasted goats,” Bennett said with a teasing lilt to his voice. “They get into more mischief than we did at Cambridge.”
“Mr. Warren does love them, though, much to his wife’schagrin,” Edwina shared. “If she had her way, they would have gotten rid of them long ago.”
Miles observed Edwina, noting the lively sparkle in her eyes as she spoke about the goats. He wondered what it would take to elicit a genuine smile from her.
Sensing his gaze, Edwina looked over at him and, catching his scrutiny, averted her eyes. “Excuse me,” she murmured, then gracefully left the study.
Bennett offered him an apologetic look. “I do apologize, but Edwina is rather timid around people she doesn’t know.”
“She seems pleasant enough,” Miles acknowledged.
His friend agreed with a slight nod. “She used to be different before her father’s passing, but she’s still grappling with grief.”
“Aren’t we all?” Miles asked.
“Sometimes I wish she would stop running from the grief and face it,” Bennett admitted. “But she is not ready to do so yet.”
Miles placed his glass down onto the table. “Grief isn’t that simple. It consumes you, body and soul.”
Bennett smiled. “This conversation has grown much too serious for my liking. Allow me to show you to your bedchamber.”
“I don’t need a nap,” Miles reminded his friend.
“Shall we go riding, then?” Bennett asked. “You can use one of the horses in our stables so your horse can rest.”
Miles shifted uncomfortably in his stance. “I am not sure if I am ready to get back into the saddle,” he confessed.
Bennett seemed to consider him for a moment before suggesting, “How about a game of chess? I haven’t defeated you in ages.”
“I seem to recall our chess games quite differently,” Miles retorted.
“Then your recollection would be inaccurate, although inall fairness, you did take quite a few hits to the head playing cricket,” Bennett quipped.
Miles released an exasperated breath. “That was one time, and you aimed at my head.”
“You could have ducked.”
“I was preoccupied.”
A knowing smile came to Bennett’s lips. “Yes, I remember,” he said. “That was the day I was finally introduced to Arabella.”
The memory of that moment weighed heavy on his heart, causing Miles’ expression to grow somber. “It was a good day,” he expressed.
